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On Writing Tripe
Merriam-Webster gives two definitions for tripe, one involving the stomach tissue of the ox, the other (possibly not quite so important) being “something poor, worthless, or offensive”. This, of course, is the definitive explanation of my writing.
You see, friends and neighbors, we are all important in one sense and equally unimportant in another. The task before us is to separate the two senses and deal with them in the course of our daily lives. I would submit that the manner in which we implement this separation dictates, in large part, our relative ‘happiness’. Note: I freely admit that the concept of happiness is widely divergent enough in meaning to render the very idea a cliché, so I shall make no further attempts at explanation. Suffice to say that each of you is capable of making the determination of what does or does not make you happy. Well… most of you, anyway.
I would also assume (probably to my own peril) that every person reading this is, to one extent or another, a writer. Therefore, in my opinion, it is a short reach to conclude that we, as a fraternity/sorority/homogenous-group-who-refuses-to-be-categorized-by-gender-in-hopes-of-retaining-a-sense-of-political-correctness-in-the-course-of-our-daily-lives-without-being-regarded-as-a-bigot, in all likelihood, try our damnedest to convince our peers that ‘oh, yea… we bad!’ or some similar shibboleth (phrase it however you will) expressing the sentiment that we have attained a level of expertise worthy of scrutiny by our peers. We want to be respected, admired, lauded, praised, congratulated, ego-stroked, liked… recognized. My personal statistics tell me that about one in every dozen or so readers leaves a comment, so my expectations in this regard have been adjusted downward to reflect my own recognition.
This is the essence of the task I spoke of in the second paragraph-- self-importance… ego. Really, don’t we all ask ourselves the questions: To what extent am I becoming self-gratuitous? What are my motivations for furthering the topic I’ve so diligently prepared and put before my audience? Are my arguments balanced, well researched and phrased in such a way as to further the cause of my premise? Did I remember to zip up my pants after I whizzed about an hour ago? Do I dare even check, given the fact that I’m directing rush-hour traffic on the square in front of the courthouse?
Now, having defined the task set before us and the motivations underscoring that task, all that remains for matters of discussion is the selection of material. One of the prime directives of writing is Write what you know. If you’re writing important stuff, be sure your facts are straight and that you’ve established your credibility with your target audience. In other words, if you’re telling me how to most efficiently affect the removal of my girlfriend’s undergarments, don’t suddenly admit that you’re a seventy-year-old Carmelite nun living in the remote regions of the Carpathian Mountains of Albania. Chances are, it’s precisely at this point that I’m reaching for my mouse in search of the next expert. Unless, of course, I recognize you as a serious tripe-writer--
No, tripe is important, no matter what Merriam-Webster would have you believe. When properly addressed, it epitomizes man’s struggle against the inevitable, symbolizes his frustrations, and demonstrates his resolute desire to further the cause of peace throughout the world.
Yea, sure it does…
It’s fun, dammit! Jump back two steps, take off the mask you wear every day when you go out and deal with all the other idiots in Halloween costumes you confront, and get over yourself! Tell me why your neighbor puts crème de menthe over her Cheerios… give me your insight into Oprah’s invisible twin sister (the fat one)… share with me how you didn’t even cry when your mother forced you to touch your dead grandmother while she lay in her coffin (your grandmother not your mother) and you were only nineteen years old and still a little squeamish about such things… Why do you think The National Enquirer has a larger readership than practically any other periodical in the country? Okay, I admit, I made that up, but I'm sure they're pretty high on whatever list monitors such statistics.
Do you know me? Of course you don’t. So why do you give a rat’s hind end what I think? I’m a faceless entity who takes the time to share my thoughts. I have no power to affect you other than that which you give me by reading my material. You make the choice every day in every way—what do I offer, whom do I believe, how do I act and react. The choices are endless and the task daunting enough without my input.
Now, if you’re interested in a little pure, unexpurgated escapism… I’m your guy. Yes, I write tripe, and proudly so. If you don’t like it, you know where the delete button sits.
Life is short-- get over yourself.
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